Will we go out with the cute barista? The brooding librarian? The sporty classmate???
YOU decide!
Let’s generate some people who don’t exist and write a choose-your-own adventure dating sim with them!
Since the last stream was on Valentine’s Day, chat and I wrote on a choose-your-own adventure “dating simulator” story story together.
Watch a short version of the stream here or scroll down for what we wrote.
Chat voted that our story take place in a high school, with us as a new transfer student there.
Along the way, we auto-generated the faces/personalities of our love interests, and chat got to vote how our protagonist acted too. (Chat’s choices are in bold)
Here’s what we wrote:
It’s your first day as a new transfer student at Lovesin High School. You’re a bit nervous, but you’re excited to meet new friends.
And possibly… more than friends.
You walk into the school and slowly meander through the halls toward your locker. Looking down at the sheet of paper in your hand that you have prepared for today, you try to figure out all the winding corridors and hallways, but it’s a little confusing since you haven’t had a chance to walk around the real thing before.
Just when you think that you’re getting close to your locker, BAM! You smack right into someone. It’s…
Susan, the Anxious Social Studies Teacher
“Oh!” she cries, looking like bumping into you was the worst possible thing that could’ve ever happened to her. Her face flushes red all over and she desperately scans the area, looking for anything that might’ve accidentally dropped.
“I’m SO sorry!” she says, putting a hand on your shoulder. You’ve never been touched by a teacher before, but to your shock and surprise, you kind of like it. It doesn’t hurt that this teacher has eyes the color of Nutella, ones that you just want to spread all over her smooth, creamy skin.
“My name is Susan,” she says. You’ve never heard a teacher give you their first name right off the bat either, but you kind of like that too. “I’m a social studies teacher here at Lovesin. A-are you in my class?”
Her stuttering makes your heart stutter too. What should you tell her about being in her class?
- Lie and say we’re in her class (< chat voted on this one)
- Tell the truth that we are not in her class
- Ask her out on a after-school date
Somewhat flustered by the whole experience, you tell Susan that you’re in her social studies class. Even though you don’t even have a social studies class this semester, you figure it can’t hurt to pursue a good thing!
“Oh!” Susan says. “Well then, follow me and we can go together. I mean, walk there together. Not like we’d be together together or anything, that’d just be ridiculous.”
You don’t say anything and follow behind Susan toward the opposite end of the school that you should be going to right now, but that doesn’t matter in the least. There’s something alluring about the student-teacher relationship, something forbidden, that makes you want to take a bite of that fruit.
But as you’re walking down the hall, you pass by somebody being pushed up against a locker by a bully. No one else seems like they’re going to help them, and when you pass by, you can’t help but lock eyes for a moment. They are…
Bates, The Mysterious Student
“Gimme all your lunch money, Bates!” the bully sneers, reeling back a first, ready to punch in the student’s face.
“I can’t!” Bates says. “I need that money.”
“Oh yeah?” the bully says. “For what? You don’t even buy lunch. I watch you every day, weirdo.”
Bates looks away and a mysterious glow flashes in their eyes. “I need the money for… something else.”
Susan goes into the classroom up ahead, and this is where you have to make a choice. Do you follow her, or do you help Bates escape their bully situation?
- Help Bates
- Follow Susan
- Strip and do the Macarena
You’re not sure what comes over you in that moment, but you can’t help yourself. Hot blood pulses through you in a rhythmic flowing, beating to a familiar melody. Suddenly, all of your elementary school rollerskating parties come back to you in a flash, all of the dancing to the Macarena in the middle of the skating rink, and your secret desire that could never act upon, flares up inside of you, bursting like a volcano of unbridled passion.
You start singing the Macarena as best you can, while swaying your hips, doing the dance with all the moves, and slowly shaking the clothes off your body.
At first, no one seems to understand what’s going on. They just think it’s the new kid being weird or something. But once you shimmy your shirt off, there’s a few screams that echo down the hallway. And once you’ve twisted away your pants to nothing more than a bundle of cloth at your ankles, the hallway is empty from everyone having run away to the closest empty classroom.
Now you are nothing more than a person in their underwear, screaming the Macarena in broken Spanish, twirling and twisting to that sweet 5th grade beat.
Unfortunately, your dance does not appear to have done much to help Bates. The bully gives you a weird look, smashes Bates in the face, grabs their wallet, and then runs away with everyone else. Bates merely holds their bloody nose and shakes their face at you in disappointment.
“I needed that money!” they cry, their voice distorted by their broken nose. “Now I’ll never… never…?”
They mysteriously disappear, and you’re left alone Macarena-ing in the hallway by yourself. Until Susan clears her throat from behind you.
“Um, excuse me,” she says. “But you need to go to the principal’s office immediately.”
She shuts the door, and all of the other classrooms follow suit, leaving you with nowhere to go except down. Shamefully, you pull your pants and shirt back on, and when the bell rings, you slowly sulk away toward the principal’s office, ready to endure your punishment.
Not even one hour into your first day at the new school, and you’ve already ruined your chances with two more than friends.
As you walk toward the principal’s office, you see a bench outside the door with another student sitting there. Maybe they already got in trouble too? You ask who they are, and they say:
Charles Arthur, The Nerdy Boy
“Hey,” he says, giving you one of those boy-smile that tingles from your toes to nose. “My name’s Charles Arthur. Who are you?”
You barely manage to eke out your name. There’s something about Charles Arthur’s damp hair, hidden underneath his bowler hat, that has you wondering what other moist, hairy things he’s hiding in other places.
Charles Arthur grins up at you with his cheesy-yellow teeth. You’d love to lick them clean for him. It takes all of your willpower not to imagine his morning stubble rubbing against your cheek like a steel-wool sponge.
Phew! You have to give yourself a mental smack to calm yourself down. Stripping and doing the Macarena really got you worked up, but it’s time to relax and make things normal again.
“I’m here for lecturing the teacher about correct history again,” Charles Arthur says. “It’s not my fault they teach us a bunch of stupid lies in school. I gotta set the other students straight. They don’t have access to the same historical documents that I do.”
You tell Charles Arthur that sounds neat and take a seat next to him. To your surprise, he looks around, makes sure the coast is clear, and then whispers into your ear.
“Hey, do you wanna cut class with me? We can go to the Renaissance Fair together. It’s happening now and we’re totally missing out on turkey legs and watching jousts.”
You’re not sure what to do. You feel like you’re already in enough trouble as it is on the first day of school, but you’re kind of excited to see what happens if you take him up on his offer. What do you say to Charles Arthur?
- Let’s go, bromeo!
- Sorry, broham, I gotta see the principal.
- Can you tell me a historical fact to impress the hot social studies teacher Susan?
- Can you lend me some money to give to Bates for their mysterious deeds?
You tell Charles Arthur that you would love nothing more than to cut class and go to the Renaissance Fair with him. He tips his fedora-like bowler hat to you, and surprises you by grabbing your hand and shooting to his feet.
“Let’s go, m’lady,” he says with a nod. Then, giving you a respectful look up and down, he clarifies. “I mean, m’theydy.”
You can’t help but giggle as warm butterflies are now stripping and doing the Macarena inside of your stomach. Charles Arthur leads you outside the school to the parking lot, and to his car: a rusted old Beetle that looks like it might fall apart when the gas pedal is pressed to the floor. You ask Charles Arthur if it’s okay to drive, and he just flashes you that same cheesy grin.
“I would never put you in any danger,” he says.
You swoon and get in the vehicle. The floor and backseat are covered with fast food bags and wrappers, but it kind of smells like Charles Arthur himself, and you can’t help but feel simultaneously disgusted and aroused.
On the way to the Renaissance Fair, you attempt to make some small talk with Charles Arthur, but he tends to dominate the conversation, letting his nerdy history-side spill out like Niagra Falls.
“Okay, so here’s the thing about the Renaissance Days that people don’t really know. You see, everyone thinks it’s about the kings and queens and monks and stained glasses churches and all that, but they don’t know the truth. You see, what really brought humanity out of the Dark Ages was… aliens.”
Oh crap. You’re locked in a car with an alien fanatic, headed toward a Renaissance Fair, when you should be in school. What have you done? You begin to question every single life decision you’ve made, and now you decide to take a stand!
What do you do?
- Screw it, it’s my life, we’re gonna ride this pony all the way to the end!
- Tell Charles Arthur to turn the car around and go back to school.
- Open the car door and roll out.
- Attack the driver with a sharp pencil from your backpack!
You’ve never felt this level of bloodlust before in your life. An insatiable urge to kill boils inside of you, making your hand tremble as it moves into your backpack outside of your own volition.
You only have a vague understanding of what is happening as you clasp onto the sharpened pencil, and slowly bring it out of the bag, holding it like a dagger. Your hand finally stops shaking. In fact, you’ve never felt more calm than in this moment. It must be what a surgeon feels like before surgery.
“You see,” Charles Arthur keeps talking, “the aliens are on humanity’s side. It was actually a different entity entirely that put them in the Dark Ages in the first—”
You can’t take it anymore. You thrust the sharpened pencil through the air, straight into his throat.
The sharpened tip pops his jugular vein like a bloody pinata, spewing hot blood all over the windshield and carpeted ceiling of the car. Charles Arthur emits a gurgling noise from his nose and mouth as his arms clench to stone and he swerves the steering wheel, sending the car flailing all over the road.
The momentary calm that you’d had before is gone. Now all you can do is witness the horror that you’ve created, gasping in terror at your own bloodied hands. How could you have done this? It was just supposed to be a fun, first day at a new school!
Even more than the murder you just committed, you’re panicking over the fact that you’re done for too. Charles Arthur, no longer in control of his flaccid, bloody body, has his entire weight pressed on the gas, headed straight off the road and toward a massive oak tree.
You try to grab onto the steering wheel, but it’s so slick with blood that your palms slide right off it. All you can do is close your eyes and pray that it ends quickly.
“I would never put you in any danger,” comes the soft voice of Charles Arthur.
You open your eyes and scream at the scene before you. Charles Arthur is gone, his face peeled away like a wrinkly banana, and now staring at you is some sort of three-eyed reptilian monster, flicking its two tongues out between its teeth.
All you can do is stare in shock, not even breathing, as the car slowly comes to a stop, inches away from the oak tree. Charles Arthur peels off the rest of his human suit, revealing his entire reptilian body. He’s covered in shimmering scales, and despite the horror of the situation you’re in, you feel compelled to reach out and touch them. It’s cool on your fingertips, setting all the hairs on your body erect. Charles Arthur quivers and begins to pulsate a rainbow of colors all over.
He speaks in a low tone. “I’ve had my eye on you for a while, actually. But I’m not the only one.”
You don’t know what he means. You’re just a lowly transfer student with an abnormal libido. Nothing to set you apart from any other high school student. You tell him that, but he shakes his head.
“No, you don’t understand. Listen, I need to tell you the truth.”
It seems like something big is about to happen. What do you do?
- Sit patiently and listen
- Grab him by his scaly lips and totally make out (< it was a tie vote)
- Grab another pencil and stab him in the jugular again! (<for these 2)
- Impress him by growing your muscles to massive size and ripping a hole in the roof of the car, the traditional alien mating ritual
Passion overtakes you yet again, and before Charles Arthur can say another word, you clasp his scaly cheeks in your hands and pull his face toward yours, locking lips and swapping saliva.
It’s as if the rainbow pulsing from before is now rippling through your entire body. You’ve never felt so wonderful, so free, as if something had been chaining you down your entire life before, but now, with Charles Arthur, you can be who you actually want to be.
Until your hand starts moving again. Still kissing Charles Arthur, your fingers reach into your backpack on their own accord, grabbing another freshly sharpened pencil. You try to tell yourself no, no you’re happy with Charles Arthur, you don’t want to kill him.
But you have no choice. Your hand flies right toward his throat again, sharpened tip out ready to puncture his scaly skin, even though your tongue is wrapped around both of his. All you can do is let out a meek little weep, and wish things had ended up differently.
At the last second though, Charles Arthur smacks the pencil out of your hand, sending it to the floor of his car. Just like he’d saved you from smashing into the tree, he’s saved again you from doing something else you’d regret. But… how? How did he know what you were going to do?
“I knew it,” he said, wiping his lips coated with human saliva. “But it’s worse than even I could’ve thought.”
You ask him what it is, but suddenly there’s a quake that shakes the entire car. Charles Arthur wraps his claws around you to protect you, but there’s another shake, and another, as if elephants are crashing to the ground around you.
You don’t even have time to scream before the roof of the car is ripped off, just like in the traditional alien mating dance, but how do you know that?
You have no time to think, only look up at the horror standing above you. It’s a massive robot with a screen for a head, and streaming up is tons and tons of text. Even from far away, you can see it clearly — no, you can feel it clearly. Because in that moment you realize it’s been a part of you forever.
Strip and do the macarena!
Stab him in the jugular!
Stab him in the jugular AGAIN!
Charles Arthur holds you close. “It’s the true evil entity. The one that plunged humanity into the Dark Ages, and was trying to do the same to you, my love. It’s ScottWritesStuff Twitch chat!”
Holy crap. Your entire existence has been controlled by a bunch of people voting on Twitch. What do you do?!
- We know what is best for you, Protagonist, listen to us
- Do your best to fight against the power of chat
- We know what is best for you, Protagonist, listen to us
- We know what is best for you, Protagonist, listen to us
There’s no hope in fighting against it. You let go of Charles Arthur and stand up to face the massive Twitch chat robot. It has brought you so much pain, and so much horror, that your only hope is that it simply can’t get any worse.
Charles Arthur yells for you to run, but you can’t even hear him anymore. All you can hear is the omnipotent voice of chat, echoping inside of your brain, controlling your every movement, every emotion, every memory.
Make it grimdark!
Make it horny!
Put in Shrek!
Poggers!
Everything slowly fades to white, vanishing… vanishing… vanishing…
It’s your first day as a new transfer student at Lovesin High School. You’re a bit nervous, but you’re excited to meet new friends.
And possibly… more than friends.
You walk into the school and slowly meander through the halls toward your locker. Looking down at the sheet of paper in your hand that you have prepared for today, you try to figure out all the winding corridors and hallways, but it’s a little confusing since you haven’t had a chance to walk around the real thing before.
Just when you think that you’re getting close to your locker, BAM! You smack right into someone. It’s…
“Wher d’ya thenk yer goin’ laddy?”
It’s Shrek, in all of his vomit-green, layered glory. He grabs you by the shoulders, and you’ve never felt more sick in your life, but only for a moment. Suddenly, you feel as if this was all meant to be.
“Wel’ I guess it’s off t’the D-room for ye,” Shrek says with a wink. “And lemme tell ye, the D don’t stand for donkey.”
You merely nod as Shrek guides you down the hall to a door that reeks of death and feces. He opens it, revealing a swamp croaking and buzzing with disgusting creatures. The rotting corpses of plot bunnies slowly bobble up and down in the muck, and a signpost by the entrance reads “Beware of Plot Holes.”
“All right, laddy,” Shrek says, smacking you on the butt. “Now, where should we start then?”
You gaze over the swamp one more time and realize that you didn’t even notice the worst part of it before. More than just a swamp, it’s a collection of Shrek’s toys of various lengths, girths, and vibrations. He gazes down at you with a hungry look on his face.
One of the frogs looks up at you and says, “Feels bad man.”
With your last conscious breath, all you can do is mutter:
“Don’t forget to follow and subscribe.”
You got the:
SHREK’D ENDING (ending 6/32)
Be sure to check out the video for a dramatic reading!
If you want to join us and help write a story by trolling in chat, or share your own writing for feedback, then we’d love to have you join us on Twitch.
And you missed the stream, you can still watch them on the YouTube channel or watch the full stream reruns.
Hope to see you next time, friend!
Images: Pexels